In the Valley
by Darth Nickels
Summary: Sequel to 'The Interview'. Anakin Skywalker, former Darth Vader and more recently former Special Agent in the New Republic Army, is taking his exile (medical discharge) as well as could be expected. Being asked to look within himself and confront a lifetime of fears and darkness could be what ultimately tears him apart from his small and fragile family.
1. Chapter 1

Vader had seemed perfectly docile when the Millennium Falcon departed Coruscant, but once they landed in the private space dock of Gentle Falls Halcyon Center he'd begun to get that cagey, unstable look in his eye. It was a look Leia knew well, even if Luke protested that their father was merely "alert".

"This isn't necessary," he said, aiming for humor and missing by more than a parsec, "we could go elsewhere…"

"No we can't," she snapped, even before Luke could get one of his soothing sermons in. "We've got rooms booked for the three of us- sorry Han—and they're paid for with New Republic credits, and_ I_ am here to ensure they do not go to waste!"

That wasn't exactly true- before they'd left, Mon Mothma had given her a serious lecture about allowing her personal life to go unattended to in favor of her political career. Leia had largely ignored it, with the exception of Mon's dire warning that if Leia didn't 'sort out her issues' (_issues_! Whatever Mon thought those were) that she would enter the paper work herself calling for a new senator for New Alderaan.

So here she was, stuck between a madman- two, if you counted her brother- and Gentle Falls, with her political career lying somewhere on the other side.

_Well, here goes nothing _

"Are you ready?" Leia asked, looking squarely at Va—_Anakin, he insists on being called Anakin_, she thought, and tried to ignore what looked like a faint sense of approval on Luke's face. Her (biological!) father snorted, and his cagey look turned defiant.

_At least defiance is something I know how to deal with. _

When they reached the end of the landing ramp, there was only a single human woman waiting for them. Leia had expected least four burly orderlies.

"Welcome", the woman said, opening her hands as if to include all of them in her greeting. "My name is Suu T'sung. I'm going to be guiding Mr. Skywalker during his stay with us."

Leia and her fa- _Anakin_ heaved almost identical, weary sighs at the word 'guiding', and she smirked at Luke's glare_- please Leia, _pretend_ if you have to!_- before turning back to Suu.

"I am a doctor of mental health," she said, in the same soft tone of voice she'd used before. "I'd like to show you your accommodations, before we get started. Is that ok with you, Mr. Skywalker…?"

Anakin was clearly startled, but waved his hand, almost on instinct- 'show me what you must, underling', it seemed to say. Leia scowled as their tour began, studying the good doctor. She was short, for an average human- even shorter than Luke and Leia- with long black hair secured in a nerf tail and with a warm cast to her skin. Her eyes were dark and friendly, with a slight fold at the edges. Even though she had no reason to, Leia distrusted her out of instinct.

"You'll be staying in this suite," Dr. T'sung gestured, and the doors opened at her command. "I hope you find it suitable."

Luke, who was still a farmboy at heart, even after becoming the last Jedi Master, gawped openly at the delicate fixtures and artwork adorning his temporary home. The ceilings were tall and the walls were a warm, creamy yellow. A soft breeze flitted in through an open window, stirring the gauzy white curtains. Anakin, of course, took his time examining every nook and cranny- prodding suspicious gaps and spaces.

"It's _wonderful_," Luke breathed, even as his father declared it was only 'sufficient'. Leia rolled her eyes at both of them, but the good doctor seemed nonplussed. Leia gazed out the window, wondering if there was some way to covertly slip out or send Han a brief holo message, when something outside the window caught her eye. Frowning, she noticed the rolling green landscape of the Lake Country was marred by large, lethal-looking spires, releasing a crackle of electricity that arced between them every so often.

"Those are newer additions," Dr. T'sung commented, following Leia's gaze. "To ensure all our guests are welcomed guests."

_And to keep those 'welcomed guests' right where they are_, Leia thought, grimly. _Good_.

"Once you've settled in, I'd like to begin right away," the doctor called after them.

Dr. T'sung had lead them to a similarly airy and inviting room, this one with a myriad of comfortable sofas arranged opposite an elegant straight backed chair. A table sat between them, and a small indoor fountain trickled incessantly. Leia suppressed the urge to turn and run yet again. Instead, she took a seat at the far end of the couch, next to her brother (who, despite his exalted rank, immediately sank into the soft cushions and sprawled like a teenager). Anakin had a couch all to himself, but sat ramrod straight with his knees slightly splayed- Luke had worriedly confided in her that Anakin's prosthetics sometimes gave him trouble.

"Welcome, again," Dr. T'sung started, warmly, as she ruffled through a few sheets of flimsi. "Mr. Skywalker…while you are here, may I call you Anakin?"

Anakin grunted in the affirmative, looking somewhere off to the doctor's right.

"Thank you," she replied warmly. "Today I'm just going to ask you a few questions, just so we can get to know one another better." Anakin nodded curtly.

"Do you know why you were recommended to me?"

Anakin's lips curled in a sneer. "I embarrassed the weak-willed New Republic bureaucracy, and this is both a convenient way for them to rid themselves of me and slander my name."

Leia resisted the urge to slap a hand to her forehead, and Luke reached out with a plaintive "Father—" but was cut off by Dr. T'sung.

"And why do you think that, Anakin?" she asked, totally unruffled, pausing only to make a brief note on her flimsy.

Even Anakin looked taken aback at her easy, gentle tone_. It's been so long since me or Luke- or anyone -indulged his childishness_, Leia thought, impressed. _Who knew it was the way to shut him up?_

"I-"The former Sith lord was at a loss for a moment, struggling to convey what was obviously true. "I wouldn't play the role of Senate bureaucrat. I wouldn't stand for the lies and half-truths surrounding my- past, ah…" he trailed off. "It's easier for them to say I'm a madman than accept that the Galaxy will fall into corruption and ruin again without firm guidance."

"And you believe that?" T'sung asked, gently. Leia felt her dislike of the woman melt into something closer to admiration. She hadn't so much as twitched at Anakin's outrageous lies.

"Obviously!" the former Sith sneered. "Are you too blind to see it?"

"Anakin!" Leia shouted, even more appalled than usual. Dr. T'sung gave Leia a gentle smile, waving her hand to as if to say _it's perfectly alright, this is to be expected_, and went on without missing a beat.

"I guess I am. Do you often perceive threats or plots against you when other people don't?"

Anakin's eyes lit up. "_Yes_. Danger lurks everywhere. The Galaxy howls for my blood, my children's blood, and—"

She held up a hand. "That's not quite what I meant. What I'm really asking is…how often to you experience bouts of intense paranoid feelings?"

It took every ounce of political training to keep Leia's jaw from dropping. Luke looked like he'd received a mighty blow to the back of the head.

_Here it comes_-

"Paranoid!" Anakin roared, surging to his feet. "I see you too, have revealed yourself to be a tool of the Senate! Of corruption! Do you dare to tell me the threat of- the Dark Side, the Empire, assassins, whatever force you choose, is not constantly around us? I can sense it, I can—and have!- seen far behind anything your mind could comprehend…"

"Anakin," the doctor said, taking advantage of a trailing off in his tirade. "I only meant that it doesn't have to be normal for you- you don't have to be afraid all the time."

Leia was mystified. For all intents and purposes, this woman didn't fear death by strangulation- in fact; she was _sympathetic_ to the man heaping abuse on her.

_It doesn't matter what we're paying her. It's obviously not enough._

"You think I know fear?" Anakin hissed, leaning in so that his half-mask was inches from the doctor's face, "I am beyond fear. To the rest of the Galaxy, I _am_ fear."

Dr. T'sung gave him a passive, neutral smile, before asking "Is that why you felt the need to wear full battle armor to a recovery center?"

Anakin could only stare at her, head cocked to the side like a baffled nek puppy. Stunned and unsure of what to do, he fell back onto the couch with a heavy thud.

"The suit and I are one, a single entity" he muttered, looking somewhere beyond Dr. T'sung's head once again. "It cannot be removed, ever." She studied him for a moment, almost imperceptibly sad, before scribbling down more notes on her flimsi.

"Uh," Luke looked unsure, his hand half-raised, as if this were a classroom. "That isn't actually the way it sounded." He flushed when the doctor's full attention hell on him.

"Father's life support system is integrated into his armor. Without it he'll die."

"Oh," the doctor said, bobbing her head in thanks, while Anakin hissed "_how is that not what I said_?"

Dr. T'sung chose to ignore that question, pressing on. "Have you had your life support systems upgraded recently?" The silence that stretched between them made Leia itch. "Or…ever?"

"I regularly perform…maintenance," Anakin said, forcing the word out between gritted teeth.

Leia blinked. Luke lived much more closely with their father than she did, he would have been privy to whatever 'maintenance' entailed. She knew, and had known since she was a child, that Darth Vader relied on a life support system for mysterious injuries acquired in the service of the Empire…but for some reason it had never occurred to her that that would cause him _problems. _Vader was just…invincible. Impossible. Couldn't be killed by the whole of the Rebel Alliance, certainly couldn't be brought down by something as mundane as a short in his respirator. Her mind drifted back to the eerie sounds of mechanical breathing that haunted nightmares across the Galaxy. She'd never thought of it as anything other than an effect, a tool of psychological warfare, not some kind of…weakness .

Leia was startled from her musings by Dr. T'sung's gentle suggestion: "We have extensive medical facilities here at the Halcyon center, including a renowned surgical center. Would you be interested in having a cursory…?"

"No," Vader cut her off, firmly. "No. Not interested. Not feasible."

Leia expected the doctor to press the issue, but she only nodded. "Alright, then. In that case, would you like to take a short break? We've covered a fair amount of ground, and I'd like to speak to Luke and Leia."

Vader narrowed his eyes, clearly torn between the chance for freedom and the knowledge that there would be _conspiring_ occurring once he left. Freedom won out, and Vader turned and stalked out of the room, where and orderly appeared from nowhere to 'escort' him back to his suite. Leia couldn't see the expression on his face, but she felt the wave of barely constrained fury left behind in his wake.

"Well!" the doctor went on, with good humor, "I was told your father was a very…forceful man, but that was quite a lot for such a short setting." She turned to look each one of them directly in the eyes. "I want you to know that my services are also available to both of you, should you ever require them. I will be available to you when I am not with your father."

Luke flushed and looked distinctly uncomfortable, while Leia felt a strange empathy with her father—_she_ was not the ex-Sith madman, and she was a little insulted at Dr. T'sung's calm offer. If she bristled visibly, neither Luke nor the doctor took notice.

"It's fairly clear to me that your father's physical pain is deeply entwined with his psychological pain," the doctor said, carefully, and Leia did purse her lips. She deeply admired this woman who navigated Anakin's tantrums and rages without even raising her voice, but now she just sounded like a holodrama character. "I would like to have an opportunity to work with a medical team in discovering the root of the damage and seeing what can be relieved, or even repaired. Is there some reason other than sentiment that keeps him in pre-Clone Wars technology…?"

Leia exchanged a bewildered glance with her twin. The dark armor and skull-like mask of Darth Vader wasn't pre- or post- _anything_ in her mind. It just…_was_.

"We've never really considered it," Luke admitted, thoroughly chagrined. "It's a sensitive subject for Father, and we just…" he shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. Dr. T'sung leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on Luke's knee.

"You've undertaken a lot of responsibility, both for the New Republic and for your father," she said, soothingly. "It's completely understandable that you wouldn't have thought to respond to a need your father couldn't articulate."

Leia wanted to roll her eyes, but the waves of reassured calm emanating from her brother stopped her. _If it makes Luke happy_… she thought, fondly.

"Let me give you some time to unpack your things," Dr. T'sung said, rising to her feet and collecting her notes, "And settle in for the evening. I'll arrange for a checkup with a medical facility, if that's alright with you…?"

Leia nodded, but Luke frowned. "Shouldn't you be asking Father this?"

Dr T'sung's face was unreadable for a moment. She took a slow breath before dropping a bombshell.

"As outlined in the agreements you signed, you are Anakin Skywalker's legal guardian until such time as he can be released on his own recognizance. All medical decisions are deferred to you until your father has been cleared to make decisions regarding his own welfare."

Luke looked horrified, and Leia felt numb. Dr. T'sung watched them both with concern.

"You…you usually read legal contracts before signing them, don't you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. T'sung, satisfied that Luke and Leia now knew the full details of their father's contract with the Halcyon Center, left the twins alone to tend to business of her own. The minute the door slid shut behind her, Leia rolled up a flimsy magazine and smacked her brother in the arm with it.

"Ow! Leia—"

"_How in all the Galaxy did you not know this_?" She hissed between clenched teeth. "Didn't you _read_ the contract? Didn't _Anakin_?"

"I—I read it!" Luke said, his face flushed with embarrassment—and a little anger. "I'm sorry I didn't pick out the _particulars_, you were so _busy_—"

Leia immediately felt guilty. In the wake of the disastrous last interview she had thrust the contract on Luke, upset with her father and her brother, (though only one of them really deserved that ire) but mostly upset with herself for allowing the situation to get so out of hand. Her brother just didn't have the legal background she had, or the knowledge of dense contract language.

"I'm sorry," she said, dropping her magazine as a gesture of peace. "But you know he isn't going to take this well."

Luke ran a hand through his hair, face stormy; but after a moment he gave her a small I-forgive-you-sister smile. She felt a surge of warmth that Luke had previously told her came along their shared twin-bond and felt even worse about snapping.

"He won't like it at all," her brother sighed, "but maybe…" he trailed off. "Maybe it will be good for him."

Leia arched an eyebrow.

"He doesn't take care of himself." Luke said, not quite meeting her eyes. "Our last mission before things went crazy, he actually got stabbed- we didn't know until he was back on the ship, giving a briefing, and a crewman noticed the broken end of a blade buried in his thigh. He reprimanded the man for interrupting."

Leia winced. "It's not like he came here of his own volition," Luke went on. "I hate to say this…but this really may be the only way."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"He's going to try and escape," Leia sighed, finally.

Luke grinned at her, weakly. "You knew that before we came here."

* * *

It took all of Luke's leverage as Anakin's son and savior on the Death Star II to get him to come willingly to the medical eval. It wasn't Luke threatened to leave Anakin alone in a five hour session with Dr. T'sung that the his father finally—and even then, with great reluctance- agreed.

The complicated mechanisms keeping Anakin's helmet on required the help of three different droids to unlatch. His father sat stiffly, his jaw set tight, as a thin oxygen tube was threaded under his nose. He refused to offer any help, leaving Luke to guide the droids and one very sweaty orderly through the elaborate process of stripping down his father's armor. Luke helped pull away his father's thick synthleather gloves, revealing the unsettling, skeletal prosthetics beneath. Luke tried to ignore the way his father wouldn't look down, not even for a second—as if he couldn't bear to see himself without his armor.

Luke felt his sister recoil slightly as the final layers of the infamous suit were peeled away to reveal the mangled skin beneath. His father's torso was covered with molted burns, crisscrossed by lightsaber scars and other wounds. His prosthetics were primitive- exposed wires ran freely before connecting directly into the remaining skin of his shoulder.

Dr. T'sung frowned, lifting Anakin's arm. He started at the touch, glaring, but she pointed to the newly-revealed wound—the skin on his upper ribcage had been worn away entirely by friction, and the surrounding area glowed an angry red.

"Anakin, do you still have sensation here?"

His father said nothing at first, but Dr. T'sung merely waited, refusing to give in, before he gave a terse "yes".

"This could easily have been taken care of. You're risking an infection."

Again, Anakin said nothing. The doctor sighed.

"There's scarring here- this has happened before." Her unruly patient was now trying to pretend she didn't exist, but his physician bravely pressed on.

"Why would you keep something like this to yourself? It's not a difficult problem to fix. You could have done some real damage if you left this untreated. As part of your healing here, we need you to communicate with us every step of the way. We want to help you any way we can."

Stony silence. Luke got the impression is father was counting ceiling tiles in order to better ignore Dr. T'sung and avoid flying into a rage and touching the Dark Side.

"In any case, you won't be able to wear this suit again until we've repaired—"

"WHAT?!" his father's head swung to meet the doctor's gaze so fast Luke wasn't sure actually saw it happen. "You presume not only keep me trapped here, but—keep me—_naked_ as well?" he sputtered.

Dr. T'sung's patience, which had seemed infinite this morning, was now running a little thin. "Please, Mr. Skywalker, we will _happily_ provide you with transition clothing while-"

"That is _not_ what I _meant_!" Anakin growled. Dr. T'sung paused, clearly intrigued by this little slip.

"Alright. Until a solution is found, you can stay in the suit." Anakin looked at her, warily.

"What possible solution_ is_ there?"

Dr. T'sung gave Anakin one of those long, cool looks for a moment, as though she was carefully weighing her next words for maximum impact.

"The medical facilities here are some of the best in the Galaxy. There's no reason to believe we couldn't upgrade—"

"No," Anakin gritted out, firmly.

Dr. T'sung cocked her head. "No?"

Anakin glared. "You heard me. It can't be done."

Luke decided to step in and try his luck. "Father," he started gently, "the technology in your suit is well over twenty years old—"

"I am familiar with that fact, Luke," Anakin snapped, softening slightly when he remembered just who he was talking with.

"It's just not feasible. I had all the resources of the Empire available to me, don't you think I _tried_ to change things? It can't be done."

There was a tense silence, and Dr. T'sung's nervous orderly reappeared (clearly unhappy his unnoticed escape had been so short) with large amounts of gauze and bandages. Finally, after what seemed like ages of Dr. T'sung wrapping his father's sores and asking awkward questions and while Anakin did his best to pretend like he was anywhere else, the cursory examination was over. After some difficulty reassembling the complicated mechanisms that held together his father's respirator, Dr. T'sung motioned for his father to lie on the table so the ceiling mounted droid could reattach his mask.

It happened too fast for Luke to sense the danger. As the droid maneuvered the skeletal mask into position, the lifeless eye sockets caught the light of the room's glow-bulb and shone an eerie red as the mask descended.

Anakin's eyes widened.

It was like being hit with a wall of noise. Luke staggered, clutching a wall for support before he could reassemble his shredded mental shields. He felt panic flare along the twin-bond he shared with Leia, and ran to her side just as she slid down the wall, clutching her hands over her ears. Luke 'reached' out to her with his mind, creating a tight bubble around the two of them.

_Th-thanks_, Leia said to him, her mental voice shaking.

_It's nothing. Your shields weren't ready for that kind of assault. I should have prepared you before we came here_. Luke's frown was evident, even in his thoughts._ Let me show you—_

They worked quickly, spinning Leia's will and strength into a shield to keep out the ongoing mental battering. They were almost finished when Leia stopped, hesitantly.

_Luke_… she seemed unsteady_. I picked some words out of that mess. He just kept shouting 'stop' and 'don't'. _

Luke put the finishing touches on Leia's repaired shields, tightening his lips.

_We'll just have to ask him what that means. _

Unfortunately, when Luke lowered the 'bubble' he'd created around himself and his twin, it was like awakening in a different world. The room's furnishings lay scattered around the room, as if thrown by an explosion. Dr. T'sung herself was sitting among the wreckage, rubbing her temple while a med droid tended to a growing lump on the side of her head.

Anakin was nowhere to be seen.

Luke rushed to Dr. T'sung's side, but she waved him away, rising only somewhat unsteadily to her feet. "We need to follow your father," she said, her mouth pressed in a thin line. "This is not a development I was hoping for."

Following Anakin's trial wasn't that hard- even if he hadn't left a number of disoriented eyewitnesses in his wake, his residual Force presence was so strong it was almost grating. Luke was uneasy. He'd felt negative emotions roll off his father before—pure hatred, rage, greed, too many to name—but never anything like this. It wasn't just fear that Anakin was feeling.

It was blind panic.

Luke felt his stomach drop when they approached the end of the trail—their new rooms- and the waves of terror radiating from his father buffeted his shields. From the strained look on her face, he knew even without checking their bond that Leia was feeling it too. He couldn't help but feel proud of how she kept her shields up, though—maybe she'd be a Jedi yet.

The damage to the room was surprisingly minimal; given Luke's past experience with Anakin's unpredictable rages- their bed had been dragged to a corner and flipped on its side, almost as if to give cover in a firefight. From behind they could hear Anakin's desperate struggle to breathe- without any kind of oxygen assistance, he was able to do little more than emit painful-sounding gasps.

Dr. T'sung all but pushed past Luke, dragging an oxygen tank and mask in her wake. Luke moved aside the bed to allow her better access to his father…

…who was just…sitting.

He didn't move until Dr. T'sung tried to slip the elastic band of the oxygen mask over his head- he jerked back, scrambling to wedge himself further into the corner. Luke felt an icy hand grip his heart at the look in his father's eyes- they were wide, wild, rapidly flitting back and forth. He was like a spooked ronto.

"Father," he called, gently. Anakin turned to face him- and looked through him. It was like his father couldn't see him, didn't know him. The chill in Luke's heart grew worse.

He couldn't say he knew the man before him, either. The panicked man before him couldn't be anything less like the man he had come to call Father.

Dr. T'sung took advantage of Anakin's distraction and managed to successfully maneuver the oxygen mask into position. She looked at Luke, as if silently asking whether to proceed. He nodded.

"Anakin?" she asked, very gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He started, and whipped his head around to stare at her. "Do you know where you are?"

Anakin's breath fogged the clear mask, but his breathing remained heavy. It was several long breaths before he answered.

"No."

Luke felt his stomach drop. He turned to look at Leia, who seemed just as stunned as he was. What was going _on_ here?

"We're at the Halcyon Center," Dr. T'sung pressed on, gently. "We're on Naboo, in the Chommell sector."

"Naboo," Anakin repeated, softly. The word caused him to relax slightly. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond Dr. T'sung's head, he went on:

"It was like I was there again."

"Where were you, Anakin?" the doctor asked, gently. She settled into a more comfortable position besides his father, now rubbing small circles along his shoulder.

"On the table," he almost whispered. His eyes were glassy. "The Reconstruction Center."

"The table?" Dr. T'sung asked. A shadow crossed over her face. "Do you mean…the Surgical Reconstruction Center? On Coruscant?"

"They cut me open," Anakin replied, in a dull monotone. The hairs on the back of Luke's neck rose. "They bolted me to the table. I couldn't move."

Dr. T'sung's impartial mask slipped for a moment. She looked horrified. "Was that when you had your prosthetics installed? They didn't anesthetize you?"

Anakin was far, far away. Luke reached out to his father in the Force, and was assaulted by a series of images- a bright light, a droid with a scalpel, the sound of bone being sawed in half—

-_pain_—

Luke pulled out of the vision with a jerk, earning a worried glance from Leia. He reached over and took her hand, sending a wave of soothing energy that he himself didn't feel.

"Why did you run, Anakin?" Dr. T'sung pressed. She clearly intended to take full advantage of Anakin's sudden openness.

"You were going to put the mask on me," he replied forcefully, and Luke felt a surge of anger. "I didn't want that to happen again."

"But you asked us to. You said you didn't want to be naked—"

"That isn't what I meant! That isn't what I wanted!" Anakin brought both his hands up, clutching either side of his forehead. "_None of this is what I wanted_!"

Objects in the room started to shake ominously, and Luke felt the Force pressing down against him- like a storm was coming. His father's breathing had become rapid, too fast.

"You were going to shut me in- YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO ME AGAIN I DON'T WANT IT-" Anakin's shouts were laced with the Force, a crack appeared in the wall beside him-

Then, striking like a snake, Dr. T'sung produced a small hypo and slid it into the vulnerable skin of Anakin's neck. He opened his mouth to shout in outrage, but whatever drug she used was clearly fast-acting, and his breathing began to slow as his head drooped.

"I'm sorry I had to do that," the doctor said, evenly, "I would have preferred not to, but I wasn't prepared to deal with an episode when the patient has telekinetic abilities."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Wow! I never expected to get such an outpouring of support and kind reviews! I'm really stunned. I just wanted to take a quick minute to clear some things up_

_I'm not a mental health professional—I'm just a loser who writes fanfic on the internet. I'm not aiming to diagnose Vaderkins with any particular Earth mental illness (things probably work differently for Force sensitives in a Galaxy Far Far Away). I'm not qualified to make a judgment call, and out of respect for people living and dealing with real world illnesses I'm not going to. Not that I want people to stop speculating—God knows I do it all the time—just want to throw that one out there._

_A lot of you have brought up really good points about the story—things I hope to address in later chapters. This chapter is unfortunately setting the scene for more interesting things to come- but blah blah enough of that no one cares Darth Nickels. Thank you for all of your feedback!_

After assisting her brother and Dr. T'sung in loading Anakin onto a stretcher, Leia found herself back where they started- well, almost. They were now in an examination room next door to the one Anakin had trashed during his…episode.

Anakin himself was situated in a hospital bed, an IV in his arm, remaining armor stripped off. He wasn't totally unconscious, but he seemed to fade in and out awareness, eyelids fluttering. Leia thought it was wrong, somehow, for him to look so pale and vulnerable. It was like seeing a fearsome nexu shaved, declawed, defanged- she almost felt _sorry_ for him. Then she remembered what had happened to her planet and her heart hardened once again. She turned back to hear what the doctor was preparing to tell them.

Dr. T'sung, while never dropping her veneer of professionalism, looked exceptionally grave. "Your father's condition- both physical and mental—appears more…complicated than I had first anticipated." She sighed. "There is much we can do to relieve his discomfort…but that may be all we are able to do."

Luke looked like he'd been betrayed. Leia took his hand. "What do you mean?" he asked, looking as naïve as lost as he had the first day he'd stumbled into the Rebel Alliance.

Dr. T'sung looked grateful for Leia's help as she forged ahead. "We can treat the symptoms of your father's illness- or rather, his physical ailments," she said. "His teeth are rotting out of his head, he has open sores from where his suit doesn't fit, his prosthetics and respirator are unspeakably out of date: with your permission, we can start to fix all these things. But as for _why_ someone would neglect themselves that badly for over twenty years…" Dr. T'sung shook her head. "It would be difficult with a willing patient, but your father—if you'll forgive me, he still doesn't seem to believe that whatever trauma he experienced is affecting him."

"Trauma?!" Leia asked, before she could stop herself. Her voice sounded harsh, even to her own ears. "He attacked you back there!"

"It happens more often than you think," Dr. T'sung replied, with a humorless smile. "I wouldn't call that an attack, though- Anakin found himself in a situation that triggered a deeply unpleasant memory. He lashed out in an attempt to protect himself.

Leia made no attempt to hide her disbelief. Luke, clearly ignoring his sister, pressed on. "You know what happened back there?"

The doctor hesitated. "I can make an educated guess." Her face darkened. "I worked at the Emperor Palpatine Surgical Reconstruction Center, when my presence on Coruscant was required by the Empire as a condition of my training…it is designed with many things in mind, but ethics isn't one of them."

Leia's mouth twisted in a grimace. Luke went on, slowly. "So…you aren't sure if you can…fix his fear of the medcenter?" Leia shot him a look of disbelief, and he shrugged. "It was always hard to get him to go in one. Now we know why."

"Luke…" Dr. T'sung took a slow breath. "That was one traumatic incident. No one was able to give me a history of your father- not medical records, not even a summary of his life. But from what we do know…it is likely there are more."

"What are you saying, then?"

Dr. T'sung looked like her heart would break for Luke. Leia felt the same way.

"I'm saying that…we can treat your father, offer him relief—but as for a cure…" she hesitated.

"At an absolute minimum you should prepare to make your stay a long-term one."

Leia and Dr. T'sung both went outside, perhaps to hammer out some of the finer details of Anakin's new arrangements. The minute they were gone Luke slumped against the wall, feeling more helpless than he ever had, even at the darkest times of the war against the Empire.

"I could really use your help, Ben," he whispered, "I don't…I don't know that I can do this."

But only silence answered him. The ghost of Obi-Wan did not appear- Ben hadn't appeared to him since their last meeting, before coming to the Halcyon Center. Luke couldn't help but feel a little abandoned.

His father shifted restlessly in the bed. Luke suddenly felt claustrophobic in this sterile room, even with just the two of them. He walked down the hall to the 'fresher, deciding to splash some water on his face (a luxury he'd never had before leaving Tatooine). The face that looked back at him from the mirror seemed much older and tired than he remembered it being.

When he returned, Luke's heart leapt to his mouth as he saw a familiar blue glow emanating from his father's room. But he stopped in the door frame, joyful greeting dying on his lips as he took in scene before him.

His father was murmuring, thrashing in his sleep. Sweat beaded on his forehead, while Ben…Ben just watched. The look on the old Jedi's face made Luke's stomach drop. Obi-Wan looked like his heart would break- no, he looked like his heart was breaking over and over again, like it would never stop. Luke numbly wondered if a spirit of the Force could shed tears.

Anakin let out a muffled cry, and whatever force was holding Obi-Wan back dissolved. He was at his former padawan's side in a flash, hand on his forehead and murmuring softly. Anakin immediately quieted, tension slowly leaving his body as he relaxed into a deeper sleep, beyond the reach of dreams. Obi-Wan smiled- but there was no joy in it. If anything, it was even _more_ devastating to behold. Luke opened his mouth, wanting to offer words of comfort, but unsure of what he could ever say to ease his mentor's pain-

But before he could try, Obi-Wan vanished.

* * *

Luke sat at his father's bedside, brow furrowed in worry. Anakin snoozed, and the room almost rattled with his thunderous snores.

Leia re-entered the room cautiously, unsure of how to gauge the situation. Finally, she pulled up a chair and settled down next to Luke.

"Now we know why his breath is so hideous," she said, hoping to break the tension between them.

"Lei-_ah_!" Luke groaned, exasperated, but he had to fight to keep a grin off his face. "Do you have to be hard on him right now?"

Anakin opened his eyes, surfacing for a brief moment from slumber, before grumbling something unintelligible and going back to sleep.

Leia would never understand the way Luke looked at their biological father with such…_fondness_. Her brother must have sensed her disdain.

"We're apparently going to be here for a while," he said, still looking down at Anakin. "You could try to get to know him a little. I know-" Luke raised his hand, cutting off her protest before it could begin. "What he did to you was unspeakable. Even he doesn't think you'll forgive him."

"He told you that?" Leia asked, folding her arms across her chest. "Did he think that would help, asking _you_ for _my_ forgiveness?"

"Would you have given it to him, or would you have started another shouting match and avoided each other for months again?" Luke countered, his voice soft. Leia scowled, but didn't deny the accuracy of his perception. There was a moment of silence between them.

"If I had all the time in the word—if I thought I needed to be here, I would stay," she started, knowing he wouldn't like this, "but I have responsibilities, Luke. The People of New Alderaan can't wait for me forever, and it's unfair to make them do so because the man who destroyed their home needs a babysitter."

"I don't think the decision is in your hands," Luke shot back. "Mon said-"

"Mon can be dealt with," Leia said, waving her hand. Anakin stirred in his sleep, looking distressed. "She'll come to realize that I don't deserve to be trapped here because of something he did," she fixed Luke with a hard look. "And neither do you."

Leia knew she was pushing, and the look on her twin's face made her afraid she'd pushed too hard this time. Seeing Luke Skywalker even become irritated since his transformation from farmboy to Jedi was a rarity.

"Are you suggesting that I'm…hiding out from my duties to the New Republic here? Like I'm on some kind of extended vacation with Father?" His words were soft, so as not to wake their sleeping third wheel, but sharp. "He's my last link to the Jedi, Leia, I can't rebuild the Order without his knowledge and guidance. And more than that," he looked at her with eyes that were like frozen carbonite, so cold they burned- "he's family. Maybe you're comfortable leaving him locked up alone, forgotten, but I'm not."

"You sound like him," Leia replied, just as cold as her brother.

There was a very real possibility that the ensuing shouting match could have resulted in things being said that could not be taken back, and newly discovered bonds of family being damaged, maybe irreparably, but Anakin chose that moment to startle back to wakefulness.

"What happened?" He asked, slurring slightly. "Where-" he stopped and frowned.

"_Neither_ of you are being mindful of your feelings. Kenobi has done a sloppy job."

Both Luke and Leia were stunned by just how obtuse their father could be. Anakin took advantage of their confusion by yanking a handful of tubes out of his arm.

"Father, no—" Luke started, firm but gentle, and Leia closed her eyes and counted to ten in an attempt to stop herself from throwing a tantrum to rival Anakin's. When she re-opened them Luke was trying to gently thread the IV lines back into their respective sockets, scolding like a mother hen. She couldn't help but smile.

Their altercation would have to wait.

"No, you can't leave yet," Luke sounded exasperated. "You _just_ had another episode like at the end of the interview, only this one was worse."

Anakin stopped. He looked genuinely confused- not just disoriented by drugs. "What?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember…" Anakin felt cloudy in the Force, even to Leia's senses. "The doctor was…raising false hopes, speaking of things that cannot be, and then…" he trailed off, a sudden look of understanding dawning on his face.

"Then I was…disoriented. " He said, flatly. "It won't happen again."

"Has it ever happened before?" Luke asked, softly. Anakin shook his head a firm 'no'. Luke hesitated, and then bravely went on.

"Do you want to…talk about it?"

"There is nothing to 'talk' about!" their father snapped. "It was….a whim of the Force. Nothing else."

Luke raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with Anakin's excuse. "We're only here to talk, you know. We don't have anything else to do—"

"This is not a discussion I am interested in having." The finality of his words would have sent Imperial crewmembers scampering, giving thanks to whatever deity they worshiped that they had escaped with their lives.

Leia was made of sterner stuff.

"You were afraid," she said, bluntly. "No- you're _still_ afraid."

A vein stood out on Anakin's forehead. Luke took a deep breath, both to release his frustration with his sister's unsubtle approach and to prepare for the coming storm.

"I fear _nothing_," Anakin hissed. "I have mastered my fear. I have made it into a weapon that could level—"

"You won't even let Dr. T'sung _try_ to fix your sorry carcass, because you're so afraid of it not working," Leia went on, knowing full well that her words were unnecessarily cruel. That didn't mean they weren't true, though. "I heard you. 'Stop! Don't!' You're afraid of Palpatine hurting you again. He's a dead man, but you're too afraid of a ghost to even try to help yourself. You don't deserve any of this. This is a waste of time."

Furious didn't even begin to describe the waves of emotion rolling off of Anakin. His face was almost purple with rage. He opened his mouth, presumably to start another tirade, but then something very strange happened.

Anakin's mouth shut with a snap, and he turned his face to the wall.

Luke didn't even glance at his sister to acknowledge how unusual—and potentially dangerous—this behavior was. It was clear he couldn't have anything to do with Leia right now, lest he say something he regretted.

"Father?" he asked, after an agonizing moment of silence. "Are you-?"

Luke never got to finish his question. A force like an invisible wall pushed both him and Leia, hard enough to knock the wind out of them- across the room, out of the door, and into the hallway. The door shut behind them with a click. When Luke recovered, he frantically turned the handle in vain.

Anakin had apparently had enough visitors for today.

* * *

Inside the room, Anakin listened to the muffled shouts coming from outside his door—his children arguing. Their lives had been upended- _because of me_—and all the stress they experienced over the past few weeks had come to a head. He ignored it, just as easily as he ignored the later pounding and pleas for him to open the door and let them back in.

He lay back, staring idly at the ceiling. He saw himself reflected in the highly polished fixtures holding the glowbulbs in place. He scowled- twisting his face into a rictus of fury- before crushing them, the metal groaning as it crumbled beneath his invisible touch, glowbulbs shattering with a pop before extinguishing.

There noise outside had stopped- his children had left, presumable to inform the good doctor of his disobedience.

Vader—Anakin- sat alone, in the dark, wrapped in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Dr. T'sung looked like she was doing her best to suppress a weary sigh. While a small crowd of orderlies and maintenance workers had gathered outside Anakin's door to try and find a way in, she'd done all but pulled the twins by the ear into a private room for an impromptu session.

Thus far, it wasn't going well.

"I think you two may need a break," Dr. T'sung finally said, quietly. "Take the rest of the day off in your rooms—your _separate_ rooms." Leia looked like she had half a mind to protest—she and Luke were adults, not unruly children- but knew the chance to have a private chat with Han away from her brother and her father and their maddening psychiatrist was too good to pass up. She rose gracefully, in full icy but polite Galactic Senator demeanor, and strode out.

Luke hesitated. He fiddled with his tunic.

"What is it?" Dr. T'sung asked, softly. "Anything you say to me is said in full confidence."

Luke chewed his bottom lip, searching for the right words. "I'm worried about father. I'm worried about Leia, too. But…there's also someone else."

Dr. T'sung folded her hands in her lap, just waiting. Luke went on.

"It's Ben. He used to come to see me, not often, but enough to give me advice and…company. I've called, but lately…he just won't answer."

"And why do you think that is?" the doctor asked, gently.

Luke shrugged. "Maybe…" He squirmed under her gentle but steady gaze. "I mean, he doesn't have to come see me—it's not like I _need_ him to or anything. But—"

"But you're hurt that he's stopped. You two are friends." Dr. T'sung supplied. Luke nodded vigorously.

"Yes! Exactly. This whole…affair, with Father, it's really getting to him, and he won't let me in. He's avoiding me. I feel- a feel a little abandoned, like I'm the only one who thinks Father can get better. The only one who wants to try."

Dr. T'sung nodded, understanding, but she looked a little concerned.

"Ben knows your father? Is he a former Imperial?"

Luke grimaced, knowing he was trapped. "No….Ben, uhm…used to go by Obi-Wan."

Dr. T'sung's eyebrows lifted, almost merging with her hairline. "Not Obi-Wan Kenobi, general of the Clone Wars? The Obi-Wan Kenobi that was presumed missing and confirmed to have died on the first Death Star?"

Luke looked chagrined. "That's, um, him." Dr. T'sung just waited, pen poised to take notes.

"I'm not….crazy. I promise." No response from the Doctor. Luke flailed on. "The Jedi believed that death, as an end to life, doesn't…um…exist. Ben's master actually found a way to…um…make that a reality. To appear from the other side to people still living. It's a Force thing."

If Dr. T'sung had been one ounce less of a professional she would have begun massaging her temples.

"Your good friend…who regularly gives you life advice….is a ghost?" She asked, with equal parts sympathy and concern. Luke winced.

"When you say it like that…"

* * *

Dr. T'sung shut the door gently behind her as she entered Anakin's new hospital room. Though she was loathe to do so, in order to keep him from demolishing any more of the Halcyon Center than he already had (and to keep Luke, who was the only one who could counter his Force attacks, a break), Anakin had been given a cocktail of Force-suppressants and mild sedatives. The combination made him irritable, but too…unsteady to do any harm.

"Your technique is sloppy," Anakin bit out, but the technician currently fitting his new prosthetic ignored him. He made the final touches with a tiny soldering wand.

"It's ready, Dr. T'sung," the technician said, flipping his goggles up on his forehead. "Would you like to try it out, Mr. Skywalker?" Anakin set his mouth in a grim line. Dr. T'sung gave the all-clear.

"Alright—right arm should come online in three…two…" Dr. T'sung frowned as she noticed Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip—as though he was bracing for something.

"Looks like a success." Anakin's eyes snapped open, as he looked down at his new arm in confusion. The synthskin was slowly shifting from the neutral factory-setting to match the pale, chalk white of Anakin's flesh. The color spread down to his new fingertips, and soon there was no telling the prosthetic from Anakin's organic self. He looked amazed, forgetting to carefully guard his expression.

"Can you make a fist for me, Anakin?" Dr. T'sung asked. Anakin raised his new arm, somewhat clumsily, and slowly managed to bring his fingers together.

"Good. Now, can you touch each finger to your thumb?" His movements were unsteady and jerky, but he managed to do it—and let out an audible gasp. His whole body flinched.

"What is it?"

Anakin didn't answer at first, instead sliding one finger down the sheet of his bed. He stopped and started, sometimes removing his finger from the sheet and flinching. He looked up at the doctor, blue eyes unguarded and wide.

"It feels," he whispered.

* * *

Leia had slid under the covers, situating herself against the (admittedly luxurious) pillows provided for her by the Halcyon Center before activating her commlink and dialing a familiar number.

"Sorry," she heard, as the grinning figure on the other end sprang into being. "This is the dirty smuggler's hotline. I'm afraid you have the wrong number, Madame Senator."

"Oh, shut up Han," Leia shot back, but with a smile on her face and warmth in her voice. "How's business?"

"Dull," he replied, propping his feet up against the control panel of the Falcon. "How's Darth Crazy?"

Leia rolled her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. Between him and my brother, I may become a permanent resident here."

"That bad, huh?"

"Between the tantrums—which, by the way, have added easily ten thousand extra credits in damages to the Republic's bill, and the fights with my brother over babysitting duty…" Leia shook her head. "I never dreamed fixing Vader would be harder than trying to kill him."

Han whistled. "That _is_ bad. Good thing I got you a present."

Leia, for all her worldly experience and hardened exterior, couldn't help but blush. "What's the occasion? Stuck in Sith Hell number seven?"

"Somethin' like that." Han pointed past her shoulder. "Look, they got your package on your dresser all ready for you.

Leia cocked an eyebrow, wondering what her devious beau was up to now, but slowly opening the unassuming parcel. She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Perfume? Are you trying to tell me the sonic shower isn't cutting it?"

Han just gave her that same lopsided grin. "Unscrew the top and take a whiff. I think you'll like this one."

Leia, still cautious, sniffed the lilac liquid gently.

"Han!" she said, scandalized. "This is _wine_!"

He laughed, clearly pleased with himself. "Figured you could use a drink." He lifted a glass of his own. "Thought we could have one together. In fact…" he disappeared from the holo, rummaging for something, and reappeared with a lit candle in his hand. "Ta-da!" He stuck the candle right in the middle of the dashboard.

"Chewie will never forgive you if you get wax on his side," Leia commented, taking a small sip. "This is good. Am I spoiling you?"

Leia thought she heard a dissatisfied grumble somewhere off-holo, and Han made a rude gesture in its direction. "

"Can it, Fuzzball!" He barked. Leia giggled. "Wine going to your head already, princess? Good, 'cause you're not gonna like this part."

Leia braced herself. "Is it Mon? What did she-"

Han waved his hand. "Nah, nothin' like that." He looked into his glass for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"Go easy on your brother," he said, slowly. "This isn't going to be great for him."

"Because I'm just having the time of my life," Leia shot back. "He's behaving like a child."

"Yeah, maybe, but isn't that why we like Luke so much?" Han asked. Leia had no comeback. Han was no intellectual, but he did have clarity of vision that came from seeing as much of the Galaxy as he had.

"Look, I hate Vader too—when I found out we weren't gonna fry him—"

"You broke your hand punching the bunk." Leia finished, smiling at the memory.

"Don't you smirk at me! That _hurt_!" but Han was also smiling at his brief lapse in judgement. But the smile faded as he chose his next words carefully.

"You and me—we're never gonna be friends with Vader. He just did too much to us, crazy or no. But Luke…" he shook his head. "Kid has a heart of gold. From the minute I met him he wanted to be just like his father. He'll never admit it, but Kenobi did a number on him by keeping the truth about his dad a secret from him. I don't know if that's why Luke is so gung-ho to make Vader into the dad he always wanted, or what, but…" he shrugged. "This means a lot to the kid. Do it for him, even if you have to restrain yourself from breaking your hand on that ugly mask of his dad's."

Leia was quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in. She traced a slow finger around the rim of the elaborate bottle her contraband had arrived in.

"Only you could give actual, _real_ advice while smuggling in alcohol like we were teenagers in boarding school," she sighed. "Impossible man."

"Old smugglers never die," Han grinned. "They just find new avenues for their talents."

* * *

The next day, the Skywalkers found themselves back in the room of their first therapy session. Anakin was still taking oxygen, and beneath his hospital issued tunic and loose pants there were bulges of heavy machinery, but he seemed…more human. Less machine. When he thought no one was looking, he'd run a slow finger down the fabric of the couch, or the wood grain of the table, savoring the texture.

Both Luke and Leia seemed much more at ease with each other. Leia had been refreshed by her time away from her new and maddening family (not to mention her secret gift from Han), and Luke seemed relieved by sharing his burden with Dr. T'sung. The air between the twins was still fraught with tense energy, but now they had reached a kind of casual armistice. _Let's just get through thi_s, they both thought.

Dr. T'sung took a moment to center herself. She'd pulled Luke aside earlier, asked if he'd be able to contain his father's destructive power in the event he was overcome with rage and what Luke called 'the Dark Side'. Luke had been sure he could.

Mostly.

"Alright, Anakin," she started, with this same tone of voice one would approach a spooked nek with. "Today I'd like to ask you about some of the people in your life. Would you like to start? Tell me about someone."

Usually, Anakin hated even acknowledging that things like sentiment existed, but the doctor had tailored this question in such a way that he tripped over himself to respond.

"My children," he said, puffing out his chest as much as he could in pride.

"Father," Luke said, fondly, "you don't have to say that just because we're sitting right here." He could sense where Dr. T'sung might go with this, and hoped she was ready. Anakin waved his hand dismissively.

"Nonsense. My children are the only hope of the Galaxy. They are pillars of strength and light among worlds of darkness."

"That's an interesting choice of words," Dr. T'sung started, but she was cut off.

"My children are kings among insects," Anakin said. Luke looked embarrassed, but couldn't stop smiling. Leia just looked embarrassed. "They are the rightful heirs to the Galactic Throne."

Dr. T'sung smiled- while his words were disturbing, the warmth behind them was geuine. "That's wonderful, Anakin," she said. "Is there anyone else?"

She was met with a tense silence.

"Anyone at all?"

Anakin shrugged. "I don't…need anyone else. My children—"

"You love them very dearly," Dr. T'sung assured him. "But is there anyone else you have in your life right now? Anyone at all?"

Leia watched Anakin, her expression unreadable. He looked stormy.

"There is…" he hesitated. "…R2-D2."

"R2 is a droid, Anakin,"

"R2 is not _just_ a droid!" Anakin shouted back. He looked Luke, then Leia, expecting support. They just waited.

"He is very special to you," Dr. T'sung acquiesced, "but…are there any other organic beings in your life you want to talk about?"

She was met with a thorny silence.

"In that case," Dr. T'sung went on, knowing she was treading on dangerous ground, "would you like to talk about someone special from your past?"

Anakin's eyes flashed. "Why?" he asked, his voice dangerous and sharp. "None of that matters now. Everyone-" his expression became even darker, and when he continued it was in a much softer voice.

"Everyone involved is dead now."

"But that doesn't mean they aren't still important to you," Dr. T'sung replied, gently, leaning across the table to take Anakin's hand. "They're with you every day in your thoughts and memory."

"And perhaps," a soft, lightly accented voice added from behind Anakin's couch, "they're not quite as inaccessible as you think."

Anakin whipped around to face the shining figure of Obi-Wan Kenobi, leaning casually against the back of his seat. The room was suspended in shocked silence, like the moment after a bomb went off. Then—

"_KENOBI_!"


	5. Chapter 5

"How _dare_ you show your face here!" Anakin snarled, surging to his feet. Luke grabbed his father's arm, trying to pull him back to a seated position, while Leia clung to the other to keep Anakin from trying to choke a dead man. Obi-Wan started pleading with him for calm, just as Dr. T'sung was sternly demanding that Anakin sit down and take this one step at a time. Naturally, he ignored them both.

"Have you come to _gloat_ over your _handiwork_?" Anakin hissed, teeth clenched tight. "Come to see just how far I have fallen now?"

Anakin's words were designed to needle, to enrage, but Obi-Wan just looked sad. "Anakin," he said, softly, "how could you ever think that?"

If Obi-Wan had hoped to defuse the situation, that was the wrong choice of words. Anakin's face went from stark white to almost purple. He curled his hands into fists, shaking with rage.

"You're the one who did this to me," Anakin snarled. "You took everything from me—you never wanted just me! You wanted my power, and when you couldn't have it you took my wife and our babies! You can't have them now, Kenobi! They are _mine_," Anakin's voice lowered in volume, but somehow increased in malice. "You can't have them. Organa can't have them. You didn't ever deserve them! _I'm_ the one who fought for them, who paid for them with blood!" Anakin looked back and forth between the twins, who shared equally horrified expressions. "They are with me now. And they are _perfect_," he almost purred.

Luke looked back at Dr. T'sung worriedly. These weren't the words of a sane man. All the warmth and love his father had begun to shyly reveal to him over the course of their relationship was gone, replaced by this possessive, maniacal obsession. She nodded in tacit agreement, rapidly looking for an exit strategy.

"Anakin," the doctor started, moving forward to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I need to you take a deep breath with me—"

"Breathe?" Anakin snarled, wheeling to face her. "Is that some kind of joke?" the thin, clear tubes bringing oxygen to his damaged lungs seemed painfully visible. "I haven't drawn breath on my own power for twenty years because-" he turned back to Obi-Wan, now shrieking with rage, "HE LET ME BURN! I burned on the inside! _And you just stood there and watched_!"

A darkness passed over Obi-Wan's face. "You know why I was there, Anakin. You know why—"

"STOP LYING TO ME!" Anakin howled. There was something else underlying his out of control fury, now- a note of pain. "Your duty- the only thing you _ever_ cared about—was to _kill_ me. You should have killed me! But _you_ thought that was too good for me, and instead _you_ watched me burn," Anakin was panting now, his exertions catching up with him. But his eyes gleamed with an unhealthy light—the light of madness. Leia thought she saw a ring of angry yellow around his irises.

"Is that what you think, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked. He looked torn between ire and…pity. "We left you alone for too long…"

"_SHUT UP_!" Anakin screamed, and the windows exploded in a shower of bulletproof transparisteel. "You took everything from me—crippled me- and then you refused to end my misery! That wasn't your duty; that was your _revenge_!" Luke wanted to say something, do anything to end the altercation, but he felt frozen to the floor. His stomach was an icy pit. He could piece together a picture from that day, over twenty years ago…and it disturbed him greatly.

"You didn't want me—"

"Of course I wanted you, Anakin!" Obi-Wan cut him off, finally shouting back. "You were the closest friend I ever had! You were my only family."

"You said you loved me when I was burning!" Anakin screamed, his voice raw with a kind of grief. "How could you say that when I was burning alive? _It was the only time you ever said you loved me! _You said it and you LEFT ME THERE TO BURN!_"_

"I thought…" for all of his years, Obi-Wan had never looked so old to Luke. There was a kind of nakedness to the vulnerability that shown through him, one that made Luke look down out of embarrassment.

"I never dreamed you would survive that, Anakin." Obi-Wan went on, in a hushed voice. "I didn't…have the stomach to kill you myself. I couldn't do it. I'm…" he looked like he was only barely holding back sobs. "I'm so sorry."

Anakin's breath was coming faster and faster, in short, painful-sounding gasps. "It…was…hours," he choked out. "It was…hours….before….the Emperor…found me…." His eyes turned glassy, with that same far-away look he'd had before, in the exam room.

It was only with a brief warning from the Force that Luke was able to maneuver himself in a position to ease his father's descent when his legs suddenly went numb. Anakin fell to his knees, staring at the floor, his breathing now far too fast, his skin cold to the touch.

"Anakin?" Dr. T'sung knelt on the other side of him, Leia having gladly moved out of the way for the medical professional. "Stay with us, Anakin. You're safe. I need you to take a slow breath with me, before you hurt yourself. Anakin? Do you hear me?"

Anakin shook his head side to side, wrapping his arms around his chest. Leia felt an involuntary rush of compassion for him- lost, too stubborn to ask for help, and instead trying to give himself what little comfort he could and failing.

She wasn't sure what to think anymore.

"How could you…say…you're sorry…" Anakin wheezed, "liar…" His skin was still cold, but beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. Luke looked up, but Obi-Wan had taken his leave.

Luke could not blame him at all.

* * *

It took hours to get Anakin stable again, to end whatever fit of madness had come over him with enough force to cause his body to shut down as well as his reason. Once again he was in tucked in bed in the Halcyon Center's hospital wing, and once again Luke and Leia found themselves outside consulting with a grim-faced Dr. T'sung. Leia couldn't help but feel like they were going in circles.

It was beginning to wear on Luke's nerves.

"He's only getting worse!" he snapped, in a hugely uncharacteristic way. Even Leia seemed shocked at his rudeness. "He's always been prone to tantrums, but never—_never_ anything like this!"

"I understand your frustration, Luke," Dr. T'sung replied, evenly but firmly. Luke felt himself flush with embarrassment at his behavior, but didn't retract his statements.

"You're supposed to be helping him!" he barked. "You said this would be good for him, but he's…he's…."

"He's crumbling," Leia supplied, looking strangely detached. Had Luke not been so immediately concerned about his Father's breakdown he would have been at her side in an instant.

Dr. T'sung took a steadying breath. "I'm afraid 'crumbling' is the right word," she said, gravely. "Luke…from what I've seen, your father isn't psychotic, not in the sense that we understand it. But he does seem to be suffering from delusions." Luke and Leia didn't reply, looking at her blankly.

"It appears…" the doctor braced herself, clearly unhappy to be the bearer of such news.

"Your father may have told himself these things, over and over again, until he believed them, as a kind of mental defense."

Luke and Leia shared an identical look of confusion. Dr. T'sung pressed on.

"He loses his closest friend and mentor—not just loses him, but is hurt and maimed by him in one of the most horrific ways imaginable. What he endured…" Dr. T'sung shook her head.

"It either came very close to breaking him, or absolutely did, depending on how you see it. But something must have happened, something that triggered his prodigious survival instinct, and he clung to life, even when his body should have shut down completely. But his mind couldn't reconcile what he knew about Obi-Wan with what had happened. So he lied." Dr. T'sung looked like she shared Luke's pain- maybe she did. They both looked pale, sad.

Leia felt numb.

"He lied to himself. He created a fantasy where Obi-Wan was the source of his problems- including whatever falling out occurred with his wife and his loss of you two—using what small grain of truth there was to it in order to power his belief. Now…now he may not be able to tell what's real from what he told himself for twenty years. And when something challenges that belief, the only thing holding him together…"

Luke swallowed hard. He looked ready to cry.

"So what…are you suggesting?" Leia asked, her throat dry. Her voice felt unused, rusty. "Where do we go from here?"

The silence between them was unbearable.

"The other day, I asked you to consider the idea that your father's stay with us could be lengthy," Dr. T'sung made careful eye contact with each twin.

"Now I am asking you to be ready for the possibility that it could be indefinite."

* * *

"Ben," Luke called, the minute he was alone. He didn't dare raise his voice above a whisper. "Ben, please."

He must have let more desperation leak into his voice than he intended, because in an instant the softly glowing form of his first teacher appeared next to him on the bed. Obi-Wan looked…disheveled. It was a strange thing to say of a ghost, but he did.

"Luke," he greeted, his voice worn and tired. "Luke, I am sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your session…or send it so terribly awry."

"It's alright," Luke said, "he's fine now." He couldn't help but put a slight stress on the word 'now'. He could still feel the chaos of his Father's presence when he left reality to go back into his memories. "Why now, though? After all this time?"

Obi-Wan sighed, looking down at his folded hands.

"When your father talks about you," he answered, "it's like…seeing Anakin again. The boy I remember comes back." Obi-Wan looked up at Luke. The dark circles under his eyes reminded him of Anakin's.

"I wasn't thinking. It just seemed so right." Obi-Wan shook his head. "It was selfish. I wasn't thinking of you—or Anakin."

Luke's heart softened. "You still love him," Luke said, "even after he…"

The memories from the Death Star I were still too recent. Luke shook his head. Obi-Wan seemed to understand.

"Anakin was doing what he had to," he replied, "just as I was doing what I had to when I left him on Mustafar." He smiled, more like a grimace. "The glorious life of the Jedi," he said, bitterly.

Luke sat on his bed, close to Obi-Wan. He wanted to reach out and lay a hand on the older man's shoulder, but was too uneasy about what may happen if he did. "What happened between the two of you? What happened…" Luke felt a note of pleading enter his voice, "…that it all went so wrong?"

Obi-Wan smiled at him again- one of those smiles that seemed to be the only defense against tears. "I wish I could tell you," he answered. "There are things I don't know, even after all this time. Those are your father's secrets, and they are his to keep."

"But you know something," Luke pressed. "You were his best friend!"

"His best friend," Obi-Wan repeated, hollowly. "So I thought. But Anakin didn't trust me, not at the end. He was keeping things from me." He stood, and began pacing back and forth. "Something happened between us—I cannot tell you when. Maybe it happened too gradually for me to notice. But soon it became apparent that I thought of Anakin as my friend- my brother—and he did not feel similarly."

Luke just waited, hands folded in his lap. It was a trick he'd learned from the Jedi before him. Obi-Wan gathered his thoughts.

"The Clone Wars were difficult for Anakin," he sighed. "There had always been a rift between him and the Jedi Council—and I can admit now that it was mutual dislike—but the war brought things to a head. The Jedi Code…the standards we held ourselves to…" he shrugged. "In our haste to win the war, we let them slip. We asked things of Anakin that were too much for one person to bear…or that bordered on unethical."

Luke's brow furrowed. "But you were Jedi!"

"The word came to mean less and less as the war raged on," Obi-Wan replied. "We lost so many…Jedi, clone troopers, civilians…" Obi-Wan slowed his pace, stopping to look at Luke. "Your father feared loss. I…am afraid I may have contributed to that—I allowed him to think I had died. I deceived him, even after I came very close to dying earlier in the war." He sighed heavily. "I told myself that Anakin was strong enough to go on without me. That he would move on, find a new master. It wasn't until it was too late that I realized telling him- overtly or through my actions- that his attachments were weakness wouldn't teach him to let go…it only drove him to hide his fear deep inside, to keep his pain somewhere I couldn't see it. We punished him for loving and grieving…we were the ones who made him into a creature that no longer could." Obi-Wan put his face in his hands.

Luke stood, hovering near Obi-Wan but reluctant to touch him—unsure if it would bring any comfort at all. "Father always had a choice," Luke said, gently. "You weren't the one who made that decision for him. He doesn't blame you for his fall." _Only everything else_, he thought, but kept that fact tucked away.

"Did he have a choice?" Obi-Wan asked, looking up. "Anakin wanted… he _needed_ help. He reached out to me. I had twenty years to go over those last days in my mind, to turn over his words—I didn't see it until then. I was so blind. He reached out to me- and I pushed him away." Obi-Wan's voice was tight with emotion. "I pushed him into the arms of the Emperor."

Luke looked up, curious. "You knew the Emperor?" it seemed only obvious, after he said it, but the man his father had served for over 20 years was a mystery to Luke—and to most of the Galaxy. Very few people actual saw or knew anything about the man who held absolute power over their worlds, other than imperial propaganda.

Anakin refused to even mention the man.

"There is much your father has kept from you," Obi-Wan said, eyeing Luke. He seemed to make up his mind.

"I will tell you what I can".


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the delayed update—this story is taking a lot out of me as it progresses. In that vein, the upcoming chapters may touch on subjects that people may find upsetting or triggering, please be advised.

* * *

_He is back on the table. He screams, he thrashes, he tries with all his might to break his bonds, but it is no use. _

_ It's happening again. _

_ His screams are thin—silk threads that are easily brushed asides by the droids at work. He turns his head, but that can't stop the slow descent of the mask, red eyes blazing as it comes to smother him, to drown him in the dark—_

_ Air is pushed into his lungs. He chokes on it. Before he can recover, there is another burst, and another. He is too weak to fight it anymore. He accepts it. The black mass of mechanics and steel is in control now. He lives at its whim. _

_ "Lord Vader," Palpatine drawls. It's a voice he can __**feel**__, not just hear—he feels it like an icy hand clutching his heart, like a weight of dread settling in his stomach._

_ "Can you hear me?" _

_ He couldn't move his hands, couldn't block out the words and stop this from happening again, not any more than he could stop himself from answering, reciting his own lines. He knew this script, he knew what would happen. _

_ And yet the final revelation still fell like a hammer blow, with enough strength to break the last of him into pieces._

_Padme was gone. He reached out to find her, but the place where she resided within his mind was empty. He searched; he tore through himself and through his durasteel chains, but to no avail. In desperation, he reached to the spot where his bond with Obi-Wan had been. In its place was a charred, smoking crater. _

_ He touched it, and howled with pain. _

_ Palpatine laughed. _

_ It was too much. There was nothing for him here, nothing to tie him to this broken shell. With newly-freed hands, he clumsily reached up, fingers scrabbling for purchase along the smooth sides of his new face, and tore the mask off. _

_ Palpatine's laughter stopped abruptly. He pays the Sith Master no mind as he fumbles, finds a scalpel and clumsily drives it into whatever soft flesh he can find—_

_ The air is knocked out of him as he is flung across the room and slams into a wall, and not even the electronics of his new prison can restore it. Dazed, he thought he felt white hot flames licking at the outside of his suit, only to realize that they were tongues of Palpatine's barely-constrained rage. _

_ "I have given __**everything**__ to you, my very foolish apprentice," the old man hissed, spittle flying from his lips. "And this is how you repay me? Do you think—" Palpatine jerked his hand, and his head snapped up—he had no choice but look the Sith in his yellow eyes—"do you think that you are allowed to die?"_

_ He tries to shake his head, to say no, no, but he can't move. _

_ "You gave yourself to me, Vader," Palpatine grates. "I own you. I own you __**utterly**__." _

_ He wants to moan 'no', to deny it, to say that it isn't true. But it is. _

_ "Do you think death is any escape from me?" Palpatine goes on. "You gave me your soul, Vader. There is no place from which I cannot bring you back. There is nowhere you can run that I will never find you- I will always find the __**things**__ that belong to me." _

_ Palpatine releases him, and he slides to the floor, too weak to move. Even if he could, there would be no point. _

_ "I await your presence on the bridge of my new Star Destroyer, Lord Vader," Palpatine says, almost casually. The new Emperor stops at the door and turns back, his eyes filled with malice._

_ "Do __**not**__ keep me waiting."_

* * *

Anakin awoke, covered in sweat and gasping for air. He was beset on all sides by nurses and orderlies, drawn by the frantic beeping of his heart monitor. He did his best to push them away, but his efforts were ignored. They ask him questions which he refuses to answer.

He wants to be alone.

Finally, once they are satisfied that his condition is stable, they do leave, filing out one by one to report on him to the good doctor, saying he is unstable, at risk—unfit for release. That is entirely unacceptable. Anakin would simply have to take matters into his own hands.

While he was still subject to a light battery of drugs that kept his Force abilities dull, Anakin wasn't the brash young teenager he'd once been, relying solely on his massive powers to crush any obstacle in his way. Over the years he'd honed skills that utilized only a trickle of the Force- picking a lock rather than smashing a door, the most delicate and subtle of mind manipulations. _Petty tricks_, he thought, pulling a thread that held his pillow together out, _but they have their uses_.

Casting a wary eye around his room, he removed his treasure- a handful of small capsules. Almost primitive compared to the hypo-sprays that had been available, but much easier to store discreetly. It wasn't the first time he'd taken his medical regimen into his own hands- the Clone Wars had provided ample opportunity for that. Of course, a Jedi was expected to overcome physical pain or mental weakness through meditation and discipline- but the Grand Army of the Republic, composed of simple clones, was not.

Anakin had always had a lack of discipline, but a good relationship with his clone troopers.

He idly considers the motley handful- painkillers, muscle relaxants, drugs to fuzz his mind and abate his rage—

-_sleep aids to keep the nightmares away_, a voice in the back of his head taunted, but he ignored it-

- and before he can think about it any further he downs them all in one fell swoop. There had been numerous warnings, writ large and underscored, cautioning against so many pills of different types being taken together, but he ignored them. He still had an exceptional metabolism, whatever else had ravaged his body over the years.

His stomach is empty, and the effects come on quickly. Anakin closed his eyes and let the waves of chemical balm wash over him, and pushed aside the voice whispering that he was weak, so weak to give in—

Of _course_ he was weak. Vader had been strong. Vader turned pain into power. He needed nothing. And Anakin-

What had Anakin ever done?

The thought floated across the surface of his mind, wavering, before he slid into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

Han Solo moaned, aggravated and sleepy, as he rolled in his bunk—his hand flopped useless against his bedside stand a few times before managing to activate his commlink.

"Whaddayawant?" he growled, wiping his eyes.

"Han?" the voice on the other end was small, weak. Han immediately snapped into full wakefulness.

"Leia?" he asked, picking up his commlink and holding it up. "What's the matter? It's right in the middle of the sleep cycle!"

"I know," she replied. Even in transparent blue, she looked bad- there were dark bags under her eyes. "It's night on Naboo, too."

"So you just called me up for a little chat, huh?" Han asked, hoping to diffuse some of the tension around her eyes. Leia smiled, but it was strained.

"It's…silly. I should go-"

"No! No, tell me."

"I had…" Leia idly toyed with a piece of her hair. "I had a dream."

"You mean an Alderaan dream?" Han asked, quietly. He'd experienced a fair few of those.

"No. It was different. It…." Leia shook her head. She bit her lip hard—if Han didn't know better, he'd think she was about to cry.

"Leia?" he asked, as gently as he could. "Are you OK down there?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know anymore."

She hung up with a click. Han knew he would get no sleep for the rest of that cycle.

* * *

The scene was familiar. Anakin sat on the plush couch, flanked by Luke and Leia, facing Dr. T'sung. Some might say she was tempting fate trying again in a room where there had been many spectacular missteps.

Suu T'sung would reply that that ship had taken off long ago, when she had taken up the challenge of rehabilitating the former Darth Vader when none of her colleagues thought it feasible or safe.

This time, she was armed and ready—in more ways than one.

She'd fully expected to hear Luke's hesitant knock at her door some hours after the end of their latest session, but the softly glowing blue man accompanying him was a surprise.

_"It is fortunate that you are force sensitive" were the first words out of Obi-Wan Kenobi's mouth, once pleasantries had been exchanged. "You didn't know?" Dead or not, he apparently still possessed a Jedi's uncanny ability to read people. "It's likely you would not have been considered even for the AgriCorps, but it's enough to allow you to see me. That makes our job much easier." _

And so it had. They'd sat in the doctor's office long into the night, listening to Obi-Wan unravel the mystery of Emperor, and give insight into Anakin's past.

_ "I'm afraid I played right into the Emperor's hands, from the very start," Obi-Wan explained, with a weary sigh. Luke started to protest, but the older Jedi raised a hand for silence. _

"_I was young—I wasn't ready to be a knight, and certainly not ready to take on a temple-raised padawan, let alone one that would be as much of a challenge as your father. I was still grieving the death of my master, and I…it is difficult to admit, but I resented Anakin for occupying my Master's last thoughts. It was childish, and un-befitting a Jedi, but that's the way it was." Obi-Wan looked thoughtful. _

"_When the Emperor—Chancellor Palpatine, then—approached me and asked if he could meet with Anakin…I didn't think twice. It seems to obvious, now—what would a grown man, a cultured citizen of the Galaxy and expert politician, possibly talk about with a child from the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim about for a few minutes—let alone hour after hour, day after day?" He shook his head. _

"_But I relished the time to myself too much to ask those questions. What went on in there, only Anakin can tell you, I'm afraid. He never told me much, and I never thought to ask." _

Even with the sketchy details she had, the picture looked grim-which explained the second piece of her armament.

Anakin raised an eyebrow as she entered carrying a large crate, a cleaning droid scurrying behind at her heels. Luke looked nervous but hopeful, and oddly enough, Leia looked…distracted. Disinterested.

It would have to wait until after the session.

"We're trying something new today," Dr. T'sung explained, rummaging in the box. She emerged with a small, globular object, about the size of Anakin's massive palms. "We're going to re-direct your energy and negative feelings into something other than Halcyon Center furniture today," she explained, handing the squeeze-goo to Anakin. Luke's cheeks colored with all the embarrassment his father was obviously not feeling. Anakin merely eyed his new stress relief with disdain.

"If we start to talk about a subject that brings back upsetting or turbulent emotions, I want you to just give this a little squeeze." She explained. "Now, I'd like to talk a little bit about the Emperor."

Anakin's hand closed reflexively, like a triggered nexu trap, and his squeezing ball exploded in his hand. He didn't even seem to be aware of the mess, even when the cleaning droid practically chirped with glee while vacuuming it up.

"That's alright," the doctor said, trying to reassure her audience (Luke looked hopeless, and Leia startled), "I had hoped to avoid this option, but…"

She placed her box on the table, revealing several glass spheres of various sizes. She hoped the artisan she'd purchased them from never learned their ultimate fate.

"I think you know what to do with—"

"Enough of your toys," Anakin snarled. "There is nothing to say about the Emperor. He is dead."

"You had a lot to say about Obi-Wan Kenobi," Dr. T'sung shot back, evenly.

Anakin's head whipped around, as if he expected Obi-Wan to be standing right behind him. The old Jedi master hadn't chosen to make an appearance—not yet, at least.

"Anakin," Dr. T'sung called, softly, bringing his attention back to her, "the Emperor was part of your life for the past twenty years- if you can't come to terms with that, then you can't begin to heal—"

His eyes flashed, the entire top row of glass spheres shattered within their box, and Suu knew she'd made a mistake. His close closed expression clearly stated that he heard her words as a threat rather than a statement of fact.

"The Emperor- like Kenobi—is dead. Dead by my hand," he grated. "That was the end of the matters. There are ghosts that should stay where they are- as so much dust in the darkest parts of space."

"But they don't, do they?" Dr. T'sung asked, softly. "I don't just mean the literal example of Obi-Wan—" Anakin bristled, but she pressed on "What Palpatine did to you—"

"If you are referring to the incident in the medcenter, that was more Kenobi's doing—" Anakin started, but she cut him off.

"No, I am _not_ just talking about that- the way he neglected your health and subjected you to what can only be described as medical torture." Anakin was shouting, but she continued to talk over him. "It's the way he manipulated your trust since you were a child. He exploited his authority and power as well as your vulnerability—"

"Who told you this?" Anakin hissed. "Was it _Kenobi_?" he swung his head to glare at Luke, but his son gave him no answers- just a stern look.

"His words are lies. Palpatine freed me from the chains of the Jedi—"

"But you killed him," Dr. T'sung cut him off, boxing him in with his own words: "he died by your own hand, by your admission."

For a moment, Anakin looked absolutely murderous. The second before he turned from the doctor to plunge his fist into the box of glass spheres was a tense one.

"He made me choose," Anakin growled. "He made me choose between him and my son—my children." Anakin looked up, glass shards falling from his fist. "I will _always_ choose my children. I chose them over the Jedi. I chose them over the Emperor."

"Do you regret it?"

"No!" Anakin bellowed. "But he—the Emperor…he changed. He was different." And then, he dropped a hugely unpleasant bombshell.

"Palpatine was my _friend_."


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't unusual that Leia was the first to break the stunned silence. But Luke noticed that there was a tightness around her eyes, and her face was pale, the only color coming from angry red splotches on her cheeks.

"How can you see that?!" she demanded, her voice shrill. "Are you…what could possibly be so damaged in your _sick_ mind that-"

"You have no idea what you are talking about!" Anakin roared back. "You—" he stopped, taken aback. The hairs on the back of Luke's neck rose.

Leia was laughing.

They were humorless, sharp barks, more defiant than mirthful, and their effect was unsettling. They seemed to deeply disturb Anakin, who drew back slightly, retreating from this woman he no longer knew.

"_I_ don't know what I'm talking about?" Leia shot back, her false mirth subsiding. "You have no idea what I know. I saw everything. That evil old man was _using_ you," she hissed. "You were his _dog_—and you were _happy_ to wear his leash!" The words were like a slap in the face, each emphasis landing with an almost audible crack. Anakin flinched visibly. Luke felt his mouth fall open, but was totally unable to form a response.

"Did he make you feel powerful? Did he make you feel _righteous_?" Leia leaned in, her eyes sharp and predatory. "Or are you just incapable of living as a free man, and need Master to tell you what to do?"

Anakin looked murderous. The white-hot rage that rolled off him seemed strong enough to burn a hole in the soft fabric cover of the couch. His hands curled into fist, and for a split second, Luke was frozen by dread- he feared his father would strike Leia, and in that second take the one action Luke would never be able to forgive him for…

But for once, Luke misjudged how far Anakin's fury would go. His father stood, his rage still overflowing and howling just outside Luke's mental shields, and stiffly walked out the door.

"Father!" Luke shouted after him, standing to chase after him, as usual, but paused when he noticed Dr. T'sung hadn't made similar movements. She motioned for Luke to sit back down.

"This is the most well-behaved Anakin has been while in my treatment," she said, settling into her chair. "He's not paranoid or breaking things—he's welcome to clear his head and come back when he's ready to talk."

"What makes you think he'll willingly come back?" Luke asked, bewildered.

"You two are here," the doctor replied, simply. She turned. "And it's you I'd really like to talk to," she went on, addressing Leia. "Those were strong words."

Leia folded her arms across her chest. Luke considered pointing out the irony how much she resembled Anakin in that moment, but chose not to.

"They were true." She replied, stiffly.

"Of that I have no doubt. But how did you know all that?"

Leia pursed her lips together, suddenly intrigued by the ripple of the long grass outside the window. The silence dragged on a Dr. T'sung patiently waited for her answer.

"Well, it was obvious, wasn't it?" Leia finally snapped back. "The whole Galaxy could see it. There were always rumors—"

"There were rumors that Darth Vader hated the Emperor and was trying to get him killed," Dr. T'sung cut in. "There were rumors that the Emperor was just a puppet, too terrified of Vader to exercise any real power. Some people didn't even believe the Emperor existed. You weren't talking about rumors, Leia."

She looked to her brother for help, but Luke huffed in exasperation. "You know I can sense when you're hiding things from me."

Leia knew she was trapped, and it was with great reluctance that she finally answered.

"I had a dream," she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. Dr. T'sung raised an eyebrow.

"A dream?" she asked. Leia flushed, embarrassed.

"Not- not the way you're thinking…"

Luke leaned forward, concerned. "Was it a vision?" He seemed torn between pride and worry. "Leia, if you're growing stronger in the Force, it could be—"

"It wasn't a vision!" Leia snapped. She immediately looked guilty for snapping at her brother, who was only trying to help, but pressed on. "It was more like…a memory. But it wasn't one of _my_ memories."

Dr. T'sung couldn't shake the feeling that she was somewhat out of her depth on this matter, but pressed on.

"Anakin had a nightmare last night," she offered, quietly. Leia paled.

"It would make sense," Luke added, eagerly. "Your connection to the Force has been growing, and all this time you spent with Father would have strengthened your connection—"

"I don't _want_ to have a connection to him!" Leia shouted. "I don't want to have anything to do it him, and now you're telling me he's inside my head, like this is some kind of—game—for you—" her face was pale, and suddenly the dark rings beneath her eyes and new lines across her forehead were thrown into sharp clarity.

With startling quickness, Luke lunged forward and hugged his sister tight. "Oh, Leia," he said. "I'm so sorry. It's not anything like what happened on the Death Star. I promise- he isn't doing this to hurt you…"

Leia didn't respond. She took deep, ragged breaths in through her nose, exhaling in sharp bursts. Even with her hands curled into fists and her face buried in Luke's shoulder, Dr. T'sung could see she was fighting to keep herself from trembling. For a long moment, there was silence only broken by Leia's harsh breaths and Luke's soothing words.

"It doesn't matter," she said, finally, pulling away. Her voice shook, but she seemed firm in her resolve. "I know he isn't doing this on purpose—there's no way he'd want me to see some of the things I saw- but I just…" she shook her head. "He can't undo what he did to me. For my own sake- for my _sanity_…when this is over, I don't think I'll be seeing much of him."

"You're…cutting all contact?" Luke asked. He looked worse than hurt—he looked betrayed. Leia gripped his hand.

"Not with you," she said, gently. "You're my brother, Luke—you make everything that happened with Vader—Anakin- worth it. And I won't make you choose," she looked at him, offering a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Luke looked desperately at Dr. T'sung, hoping she'd talk Leia out of this. But the doctor shook her head slowly.

"This is a choice only Leia can make," she said, softly. "If you think its best for you, and your well-being—" Leia nodded vigorously.

"I'll stay until Anakin is more or less on his feet," she cut in, "and you fix this…dream-connection that we have. But I just can't stay here any longer. I can't-"

The door slid open again, and both Luke and Leia were startled to see their Anakin, leaning slightly on the doorway. Dr. T'sung's predication had proven accurate.

"The Emperor," he announced, as if he'd never left, "was all the things the Jedi weren't. He didn't resent my powers—he wanted me to utilize them to the greatest possible extent. He thought I was _worthy_," Anakin's breathing seemed more labored than usual. Luke thought that maybe he'd been angrily pacing outside.

Which made him wonder nervously what his father might have overheard…

"The Jedi don't _care_ about life," Anakin raged, now pacing around the room, "because they don't care about death. They don't care about anything. They wanted to let Padme _die_—"

"Mother?" Leia's head snapped up. "You think the Emperor cared about _Mother_?" she looked disgusted, but it was tempered with…pity.

"Of course he did!" Anakin shouted back. "She was going to die and the Jedi were going to let her! They would have! But Palpatine…he promised me…" Anakin looked down at his hand for a moment, squeezing his new prosthetic into a tight fist. "He promised me what the Jedi never would have—the power to stop people from dying…"

"The dream," Leia said. She was rigid, her previous gentle grip on Luke's hand had turned white-knuckled. "The woman dying in childbirth…it was real. It was your future."

"You think you foresaw your wife's death?" Dr. T'sung asked, curious. Somehow, Anakin turned even paler than he usually was.

"How- could you possibly—" he hissed, gripping the back of the couch. "That's—"

"You and Leia have a bond, father," Luke explained, trying to keep his voice even. How desperately he and Leia had wanted to know about their mother, and now that answers were in reach, he felt like something darkly unpleasant would come to light as well.

"You weren't shielding for it—you've been sharing your dreams."

Anakin's head whipped around and he leaned forward, staring Leia directly in the face. She saw his eyes were red-rimmed and wild- two spots of vivid, electric blue in a destroyed face.

"How long? What did you see? How did you—" He cut off his barking questions, swinging his suspicious gaze to Luke, the doctor, and then Leia again.

"It doesn't matter. You saw. The Jedi were going to let her die. I did what I had to do."

"But she did die, Anakin," Leia said. Her words were soft, but she raised her chin and met his eyes defiantly.

"You were alone," Luke went on, piecing together a very dark image. "Obi-Wan was gone, Mother was gone, and only the Emperor was left…"

"I chose him!" Anakin shrieked. "I chose him for _you_—for the power to save your mother, to keep this Galaxy from falling apart—"

"You let him take everything you loved," Leia shot back. "And you know what? He thought you were _pathetic_." Luke actually felt the temperature of the room drop several degrees.

"Every time he punished you, every time he manipulated you—warped your mind just a little bit more than it was, every time he tricked you into undercutting your own healing or desires, he _laughed_ at you. He didn't even try to hide it—I _saw_ him, laughing right in your face, and you were too far gone to admit to yourself. Because you knew- you knew from the beginning that it was a sham, and you were a slave again. You'd closed the collar around your neck and given him the key. So you lied—you lied to yourself, and every time you lied you had to push the truth down deeper inside, where it festered…" Leia shook her head.

"You're a sick man, but he was _evil_. And until you can admit that, and admit that you became like him, then you're still just as pathetic now as you were then."

The silence stretched on, and Luke kept waiting for the outburst, his father's violent denial—but it never came. He cautiously glanced up at Anakin—his face was covered in a bright sheen of sweat.

"No," he finally answered. His voice was soft—the softest Luke had ever heard it—and he shook his head back and forth. "No, no…"

"So that's it," Leia said. She sounded genuinely disappointed. "You're just a coward-"

"Leia," Dr. T'sung finally spoke, startling the twins. She laid a hand on the former Princess' shoulder. Anakin didn't seem to have heard either of them. His breathing was truly labored now, and the steady feeling of something wrong in the back of Luke's head began to grow increasingly more persistent.

"I didn't want to do those things," his father gasped. He leaned forward again, but this time he appeared to be gripping the couch for support. "I didn't _want_ to. But they were right…it was…the right thing…I had to…"

"No, Father," Luke said, laying a gentle hand on Anakin's arm. HE couldn't help but notice that his father's skin—his real skin- was unusually cold to touch. "There was no greater good in what you did."

"All of it…for…nothing…" Anakin gasped. "I lost…my only friend…my family…and it was all..." he seemed incapable of forming more words. Luke vaulted easily to the other side of the couch, embracing his father tightly, laying his head against his chest so close he could hear the rapid flutter of Anakin's heart. He thought he heard something fall from Anakin's pocket, but ignored it.

"I know," Luke said, quietly. "I know it hurts you. Just—" without warning, seemed to go totally limp. He sagged against Luke, his son's embrace the only thing keeping him from crashing to the ground.

"Father?!"

Dr. T'sung knelt beside the pair, retrieving the small bit of trash Anakin had dropped- an empty blister packet. "Where did you get this?" she asked, her voice strained. "This isn't your prescription. Why—" Anakin jerked his body, hard, and fell to his hands and knees—not a moment too soon, as he was promptly sick all over the floor.

"Anakin!" she shouted, with what sounded like genuine fear. She rolled the much larger man onto his side, pushing Luke away. "Anakin, how many of these did you take? Show me—how many-?" His Father's breathing was dangerously shallow, and with a gasp his eyes rolled back into is head.

"Oh, merciful gods," Dr. T'sung breathed. "He took _all_ of them."

She slammed her hand against a button on her belt, and a siren wailed through the corridors. Luke was frozen by his father's side, knowing he should do something, say something, move, _anything_, but found that he was totally unable too. His father's head lolled, his mouth ringed in sick. Luke thought someone was screaming, but he couldn't be sure.

Luke stood there, even after he was shoved out of the way by a white-clad orderly. He numbly watched his father's limp body being loaded onto a stretcher, vaguely heard the shouts of the doctors and frantic beeps of equipment. His connection to is father was weak- so weak….

He looked over at Leia, who seemed similarly frozen, her hand over her mouth as she watched in horror.

Someone was yelling at him. He turned and found Dr. T'sung had a hand on his shoulder. She was talking to him, but somehow the words seemed so far away.

"Why would he do that?" Luke finally asked. He sounded lost, distant.

Dr. T'sung wasn't able to answer


End file.
